


Green-Eyed Monster

by kelex



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 07:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/897391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a monster inside of Dean, but at least it's not a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green-Eyed Monster

When Sam came back to the hotel and headed straight for the shower, without saying a word, Dean knew. 

The room wasn't that big, and Dean always took the bed farthest from the door, which generally meant closer to the bathroom, because that's just the way the rooms were laid out. And when Sam walked by, without even turning on the light and reeking of perfume that definitely was of the cheap and feminine variety... 

Well.

Dean didn't say anything. Just let the anger and hypocrisy and yes, jealousy, bubble up in the back of his throat, then swallowed it down. Just like he always did. Stayed silent, turned over, put his back to the shower, ignored it. Pretended like he didn't want--maybe for the first time in his life--to go out and beat the ever-living crap out of some bitch who thought she could lay her skanky overly-perfumed hands on Dean's brother.

Yeah, Dean was fairly certain he was going to have a nice big Sam-sized hole chewed in his gut before this was all said and done, because there was actually no way in hell that he was going to be able to take this for long. 

-=-

The next morning, Dean was up before the sun--and before Sam. He swore he could still smell the cheap perfume in the hotel room, though he knew he really couldn't. Just his imagination, and what a damned vivid imagination he had too, because his dreams that night--what he remembered of them anyway--had been about exactly what Sam and his skank had done together. 

He woke Sam up with a kick to the bed. "Up and at 'em, Sammy boy. We're leaving."

Sam groaned, rolling onto his back and laying an elbow over his eyes. "Five more minutes, man. What the hell are you doing up anyway? Sun's not even up."

Dean ignored the request for five more minutes. "Get up and get your shit together. We've got a lot of road between here and Des Moines and I'm leaving in ten, with or without you."

Sam groaned again, scowling as his brother as he sat up, stretching and rubbing his chest where Dean definitely did not miss the fading scratch marks. "Who shit in your cereal?"

"Move it," is all Dean spit out, and slammed the door a little harder than necessary to make his point.

-=-

"Okay, pull the fucking car over," Sam said, half-exasperated and half-angry.

Well, maybe more angry than exasperated, but he could join the fucking club. Dean's fingers were flexing on the steering wheel and he ignored his brother's request. Demand. Whatever.

"Dean, did you hear? Pull the fucking car over _now._ "

"What, you can't hold it until the next rest stop?" Snide, bitchy, sarcastic. Not his best, sure, but hey, he wasn't working with much to start with.

"We've been in this car for five hours, you haven't said two words to me, every time I even look at you, you flip me off, what the fuck is your problem!? Stop the damn car, and talk to me." Sam crossed his arms over his chest, glaring as though he meant to be obeyed.

Well, that might work with the bitch back in Chicago, but this is Dean Winchester he's fucking with, and Dean doesn't snap and bend for just anybody, especially not a guy who goes out and fucks cheap whores.

Yeah, he'd already mentioned the hypocrisy.

And then Sam did the most wrong thing he ever could have done in that moment, and that was reach out to touch his brother on the arm. 

Thank God nobody was behind them on the road, because Dean slammed on the brakes and sent the Impala into a spin. Rubber lay on the asphalt behind them and Sam jerked his head around to look at the tire tracks, then back at his brother. "Dude, what the fuck is your problem?"

Boy, was that the wrong question to ask. Unfortunately, Dean didn't have anything he could say. He wanted to, sure. But he'd never once said a word to Sam about it and he wasn't going to start now. Maybe the one time it'd happened before Stanford hadn't meant much to Sam, obviously. Therefore Dean hadn't said a goddamned word about it. Just let it stew for the past seven months, smiled at the kisses he knew weren't going to amount to a damn thing, and fucked out his frustrations with Cassie. 

He jerked away from Sam like he was burned. "I don't have a problem, Sammy. Shut the fuck up, let me drive, and don't touch me." _Ever again_ lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down with everything else. 

"Sorry, I don't believe that." Sam deftly reached over, and yanked the keys out of the ignition before Dean could stop him. "Now, you talk or I throw."

Dean glared, in anger and shock. He hadn't been able to move fast enough to stop Sam from getting the keys but he also wasn't going to sit by for this shit. "Give me the keys, Sam."

"Not until you tell me what burr crawled up your ass this morning!" Sam's arms were still crossed over his chest, the biggest immovable object son of a bitch that Dean had ever had the misfortune to deal with. 

"If you weren't my brother I'd punch you in the face. And I still might, so give me the damn keys already, Sammy, nothing's wrong!" So maybe Dean yelled the last two words a little loudly. 

"Right, because you're always this sunny and cheerful." Sam put the keys in his jacket pocket and glared at his brother. "We're not going anywhere until you spill, so get the hell over it and tell me why you're pissed off at me!"

Dean's fingers flexed around the steering wheel as Sam lectured him, and then in answer, he got out of the car and slammed the door. Not as hard as he'd slammed the motel room because come on, the Impala's his baby, but hard enough to make his point--again. 

He popped the trunk latch with his fingers and lifted the trunk as Sam's door slammed and his brother came around the back of the car. Never had he been so tempted to shoot the fucker where he stood, but instead, all Dean did was prop the false floor up and reach down into the wheel well, under the spare tire's rim, and pull out the spare set of keys. "Get in or I'm leaving your ass."

Sam very calmly nodded, was even nice enough to close the weapons hatch and the trunk for his brother, and then proceeded to walk around to the front of the car and perch on the hood while Dean cranked it. 

Dean swore as he turned the key off and rolled his window down. "Get your ass off my car and back in the seat, Sammy!"

"No," Sam said simply. "You wanna be stubborn, that's fine. You're not the only Winchester who can be stubborn. I got it from Dad just like you did, and if you want to be an asshole, that's okay with me. I can be an asshole too."

"If you're going to be that much of a bitch, just go back to the one you were with last night, because I don't have time to fuck with you right now," Dean growled out, re-cranking the engine and gunning it.

"I--last--" Sam's brow furrowed for a long moment, and then immediately smoothed out. Dean didn't like the look on Sam's face when he came around to the driver's side, opened the door, and dragged Dean out of the car. "Just come out and say it, Dean." 

Dean didn't fight when Sam dragged him out of the car, because that would have seriously been painful. Once he was out of the car, however, it was a fair deal, and the first thing Dean did was take a swing at his brother's jaw. 

Sam saw it coming a mile off and caught it easily, big hand holding Dean's entire fist as he looked down at his brother pressed against the car. "Say it, Dean." 

Dean didn't say anything, just reached out with his foot, and with a quick leg sweep, sent Sam sprawling to the ground. 

Trouble with that was, Sam didn't let go, and it just brought Dean tumbling down on top of him. "Let me the fuck go," Dean growled, shoving at his brother's shoulders to no avail. It just wasn't fucking fair that Sam was the LITTLE brother and yet got to be the huge one in the family. 

"No," Sam said again, tangling his legs around Dean's and locking both his arms around Dean's chest, which effectively cut off his brother's escape. "Dean, stop. Look at me," he pled softly.

Dean really hated it when Sam used that tone of voice, because it always got to him, and with one last shove to Sam's chest, Dean turned his head and looked at Sam. 

Sam's eyes were bright as his grip eased on Dean's shoulders, shifted from angry to gently restraining. "C'mon. Don't look away," he encouraged softly. 

Fuck. That same tone of voice, and Dean didn't look away. He felt the loosening of Sam's grip but didn't try to escape the tangle of arms and legs. And when Sam's head lifted just a little, Dean didn't turn down the kiss that Sam offered him. 

When Sam felt Dean kissing him back, he rolled so that Dean was on the bottom and he was on top, and Dean didn't argue. He wrapped his legs around Sam's waist, pulled his arms free to slide his fingers through Sam's hair. He kissed savagely, teeth and tongue battling against Sam as his fingers yanked in his brother's hair to pull him closer. 

Sam responded, moving closer to Dean, rocking his hips roughly against his brother's groin, chafing cock against cock as he dropped his weight onto Dean's body. Dean groaned, raking his nails down Sam's back, dragging at the jacket and shirt because he wanted to leave scratches and bites and marks that Sam'd never forget, no matter whom else he fucked. 

And Sam obliged, letting the jacket fall to the side, helping Dean's frantic hands pull the shirt over his head. Another roll, and Sam was on his back again, Dean straddling his waist as the worn leather jacket went sailing, the black t-shirt quickly following suit, hips rocking against Sam as he dragged Sam's hands up to his chest. 

Dean leaned over, putting his weight against Sam's hands and encouraging them to drag against his chest as his own hands went down to open Sam's jeans. He was shocked to find that Sam was just as hard as he was, and somehow that made him angrier, more furious than he had been before because Sam was _hard_ and he wanted _this_ and he wanted _Dean_ and Dean had been stewing in it all day. 

He took the frustration out on his brother's cock, stroking it roughly and squeezing it firmly. He shoved Sam's hands out of the way with his own, glaring angrily at the fading scratches on Sam's chest as he added to them, raking his hands possessively down Sam's chest. His fingers pinched and tweaked Sam's nipples, jerking Sam's cock roughly as he thrust up, shoving him back down again. 

Sam didn't seem to mind, twisting and arching into Dean's almost-savage strokes, whimpering softly at the tugs to his nipples and reaching up to pull Dean down flat so that he was almost lying on top of Sam again, with Sam's cock trapped between them. "Go all the way, Dean, c'mon, fuck, please." 

That's all Dean had been waiting for, and he let go of Sam's cock as he unzipped his jeans, freeing his own cock as he leaned back against the Impala for balance. Sam moved, stroking himself as he lifted his lower body--Dean's weight included--to push his jeans down. Dean rummaged in his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and out of his wallet, a strip of three condoms, because hey, a Winchester was never a one-shot gun. 

He tore the first one off the strip, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it quickly over his first two fingers. "Roll over," he gritted out, moving so Sam could do just that. 

When Sam rolled, he pulled himself onto his knees, thighs spread as much as his pants would let him. His hand was on his cock, squeezing gently as he waited for Dean. 

And Dean didn't disappoint, one hand going to rest in the middle of Sam's back as his condom-covered fingers pressed at Sam's opening. He half expected to find it loose, but when he didn't possessiveness welled in his chest. Slowly and carefully he worked both fingers in, stretching Sam open and spreading the lube from the condom inside his body. When he could take three fingers, Dean pulled out entirely, tossed the used rubber to the side of the road, and ripped a second off the strip. 

The package tore easily under Dean's hurried grip, and the little rubber circle popped out into his waiting hand. Practiced movements had the condom rolled on in seconds, and he was pressing the head of his cock in. Tight, probably a little too tight but again, Sam didn't argue. He just rocked back against Dean, pushing to take more as Dean steadily worked himself in. 

When he was all the way in, the tightness around him throbbing, more angry possession washed over Dean and all he could see was green. His arm left Sam's back and went to tighten around his waist, growling softly as he bent his body over Sam's, hauling him back so they were skin to skin as Dean started to move.

Hard, stabbing thrusts that speared his cock to the hilt in Sam before pulling nearly all the way out to do it again. He felt Sam jacking off and caught his hand by the wrist, pushing it down on the pavement to hold both their weights as he leaned even more on Sam's broad back. He paused in his punishing strokes just enough to yank his jeans down, out of the way so he could move faster and all he could hear was the slap of his balls against Sam's ass. 

Dean was moving so hard he was sweating and his hands were digging into Sammy's hips so hard he knew they'd bruise and didn't care. Let him feel it every time he shifted and know that he wasn't ever going to find anyone like Dean, ever again. Fucked up, he knew it, but he didn't care, because Sammy was his. Always had been, always would be. Dad had given him Sammy to protect and love and take care of, damned if he'd give him up now. 

He mouthed hard kisses along the back of Sam's neck, down a hard shoulder before sinking his teeth in. A sharp bite, crescent of teeth in winter-tan skin, then a suck to take the sting out of it as he continues pounding his brother's ass. 

A sharp gasp grabbed his attention, and suddenly Sam was groaning, rolling his hips like a madman and Dean _knew_ he'd hit that spot. He gave Sam's other shoulder a bite, just for symmetry, just to make him remember, and leaned his forearm across the back of Sam's neck. Better leverage, deeper angle, something shifted and Dean groaned when Sam did because they were rocking together, and it wasn't about proving anything now, it was just about making sure that his Sammy got _off_. 

He moved his arm from Sam's neck, wrapped it back around his waist, and pulled backwards so that Sam was on his knees, sitting mostly upright. One of Dean's hands eased down to Sam's cock, stroking it with sure flicks of his wrist and rubs of his thumb as his cock still pounded in Sam's ass. "C'mon, Sammy," Dean groaned, between kisses to the back of his neck. Sam was going to come first, come his fucking _brains_ out if Dean had anything to say about it, and fuck it, he did. 

He pushed in to the hilt, dragged his teeth along the back of Sam's neck, scraped his nails along Sam's cock as he stroked it, ground his thumb into the head and teased the slit. 

Sam shuddered in Dean's arms, crying out happily as his entire body jerked, spilling out his semen over Dean's hand and the dirt of the roadside. The harsh convulsions of Sam's orgasm wracked through Dean's body as well, and he rode them out, stroking Sam's cock even faster as he wrung the last drops out. Only then did he allow himself to come, the condom denying him the feeling of marking Sam as his own. 

Breathless, Dean fell back against the Impala, pulling Sam with him. With a quiet grunt, Sam pulled himself off Dean's cock and tossed the used condom to the ditch. He moved to sit beside his brother, pants still down around his thighs as his hair hung in his eyes, trying to catch his breath. 

Dean reached out and ran his fingers through Sam's messy hair, making the mess worse as he pulled Sam's head over to rest on his shoulder. And Sam let him do it, stroking Dean's back and waiting until Dean let his head fall against the car before he spoke. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Dean scowled at his brother even as he licked his lips to taste their kisses again. Sam tasted just like he remembered, maybe just a little older, well aged like whiskey or wine. "When you came back to the hotel smelling like a cheap hooker, that gives me a pretty big clue." 

Sam didn't take the bait; he just smiled down at his brother, shifting his hips so that his side nestled tightly against Dean's. "I haven't been with a cheap hooker, Dean. I was on the way back last night after the library closed, and this kid was crying because her cat was up a tree. I got the damn thing down but it clawed me to shit, and I took the kid home. Seems like she'd snuck out to look for it or whatever, because her mother damn near had a fit when I brought her to the door, and she smelled like she'd took a bath in Charlie. It rubbed off when she hugged me, and I came home to scrub it off and make sure the cat scratches didn't get infected, but they weren't as deep as I thought." His hand kept moving calmingly up and down Dean's back, and fuck if he didn't believe him. "You were jealous?" Sam's voice was full of surprise and shock. 

"Wouldn't you be?" Dean snapped, refusing to admit that's actually what the problem was. He might be fucked up for wanting to fuck his brother, but he wasn't a thirteen-year-old girl, thanks.

"I've gotten used to it," Sam answered, then moved his head down to kiss Dean again. Wet and hard, just like the first kiss, then broke off just enough to murmur softly against his brother's lips. "You want to talk about jealous, Dean? Let's talk about every single town we go to." A squeeze of Dean's shoulders, and then Sam pulled Dean's arms behind his back, pinning both wrists down to the ground with one big paw. "Let's talk about every single woman that lets you into her pants or sucks your dick." 

"What about you and your fucking _girlfriend?_ " Dean spat out angrily, even as he leaned in closer against Sam. 

Sam slammed Dean back against the car, pressing more of his weight against his brother's body. "Not like I had much of a choice after you didn't stop me from leaving." 

Dean grunted, and tried to kick out from under Sam, but his bigger brother kept him pinned down. "And if I'd asked you to stay you would've?"

Something dark danced in Sam's eyes, and was gone before Dean could identify it. "Guess we'll never know now." Another hard grind against Dean. "How fucking dare you be jealous, Dean? You got no right. You gave up all your jealousy rights a long fucking time ago." 

Dean growled as he rubbed against Sam, trying to either get close or get loose, he didn't quite know which. "I've got every right to be jealous, Sammy. I thought before you left for Stanford was enough asking for you. I didn't think I had to spell it out for you."

Sam grunted at that, echoing his brother's scowl. Dean wished he could tell what was going on in Sam's head, but he couldn't until he opened his mouth. "I'll make you a deal, Dean."

"What's that?" Dean looked up at his brother. "Better not be any touchy-feely crap, cause you can shove it up your well-fucked ass." Had to get defensive, had to get the walls back in place, because Sammy was the only person who could knock 'em down any longer.

Sam's jaw ticked, but he let it go. "You don't screw anyone else and neither will I. Instead, we'll stick together like glue," he said, letting Dean's hands go and sitting back up. His back arched as he pulled his jeans back up and buckled his belt, then looked over at Dean who hadn't moved. "Well?"

Dean was still half-lying on the ground beside the Impala, looking up at Sam with eyes wide open and revealing a lot of things he'd never ever admit to revealing ever again. "You mean it, Sammy?" He hated that his voice sounded softer and less grating than normally, but he figured since he's fucked six ways from Sunday anyway, it didn't matter. 

"Yeah, I mean it." Sam got up, dusting his backside off and wincing just a little. 

Dean got a vicious little thrill out of the wince, and then took the hand that was offered to him. Sam pulled him up to his feet, and Dean closed his jeans and picked up his t-shirt, offering it to Sam to wipe down with as he shrugged the leather jacket over his bare chest. It'd hold them to the next town and the next motel, and they wouldn't be needing the clothes for long anyway.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as comment porn about a jealous Dean for keepaofthecheez. Yeah, we see how well THAT worked out.


End file.
